Part 21 (1/2)

Overhead the sky was deeply brilliant, and near the horizon a tender, misty blue. The golden landscape was lit with patches of gay woodland, and here and there by the roadside a scarlet maple, a clump of flaming sumach, or the blood-red vine of the woodbine. High up on the top of a dead tree-trunk, in the center of a smoky hollow, a flicker was shouting out derisively, ”Tut, tut, tut, tut, tut!” in scorn of all this frivolous humanity gone a-fairing.

The procession crossed the railroad track just as the afternoon express went thundering past. The conductor caught sight of the doctor's buggy, and blew him a salute that set all the horses upon their hind legs in indignant alarm.

A smart vehicle dashed past in a cloud of dust. It was Miss Long, driving her own horse, with Sawed-Off Wilmott by her side, his chestnut driver having been sent on ahead in charge of a friend.

”Ella Anne's goin' to show her horse,” said Hannah admiringly. ”She's took first prize every year for ever so long. She's a wonderful driver.”

”Dere's Lorry!” screamed Joey, pointing to a little tousled black head peeping from between Malcolm Cameron and his sister, just a little in advance.

”Elsie's awful good to her,” said Hannah gratefully. ”Her an' Arabella Winters jist makes a pet o' that child. Lorry says they've got a secret, the three o' them, and she feels that big about it you never saw the likes! Why, that's Lenny's voice, ain't it?”

From a buggy a little farther down the line greetings were being shrieked back to the black-haired twin. Hannah drew a deep sigh of content.

”Well, now, there's every single one o' them settled,” she exclaimed happily. ”If Jake jist gets a chance, now, an' Timmy gets a prize for his pumpkins, we jist won't have anythin' more to ask.”

The Elmbrook fair ground was a long field, with a big, barn-like building at one end. Gilbert had often pa.s.sed the place before, and found it silent and gra.s.s-grown; but now it was thronged with people, and resounding with a joyous bedlam of all the noises that all the farms in Oro, joined together, could produce. Horses neighed, cattle bawled, sheep bleated, hens cackled, babies cried and boys shouted. A merry-go-round, that charged only five cents for a horseback ride, was whirling giddily to the tune of ”The Maple Leaf Forever.” As the doctor guided his horse carefully through the thronged gateway Joey spied the twins, already mounted astride the largest team, and spinning around with joyous shrieks. A man with a wheel of fortune was shouting to the pa.s.sers-by to come and take a turn, and make money enough to buy a farm. A row of tents, each with its roaring proprietor in front, held all sorts of wonderful spectacles, from a three-headed pig to a panorama of Queen Victoria's Jubilee. In front of a large tent, set off in one corner, a solemn, stout man, wrapped in a white winding-sheet, was marching to and fro, ringing a funereal bell, and calling out in melancholy tones that this was the last chance for dinner.

But above all the various clamor one sound arose, penetrating, triumphant, the sound that was the true voice of the Elmbrook fair, and without which it would surely have died away in silence--the high, thrilling skirl of the bagpipes. The piper, splendid in kilt and plaid and bare knees, was marching magnificently from the hall to the racing track. Lesser beings had to push and jostle through the throng, but he had a long lane sacred to his own footsteps, and no matter what new attraction appeared, he always had his following of gaping admirers.

Young ladies, with their attendant swains, in holiday attire, wandered about arm in arm, eating peanuts. Some lovers, of the old-fas.h.i.+oned type, who plainly knew very little of the requirements of fas.h.i.+on, went about hand in hand, and were the object of many witty remarks on the part of those who followed the more up-to-date method. Farmers with long beards, their backs bent with honest toil, collected around the show horses, or sat in the high buggies, round-shouldered and content, and smoked and chewed and spat, and were, withal, supremely happy.

Whole family circles, the young father proudly carrying the baby, the mother holding as many as possible by the hand, revolved in an aimless but joyous...o...b..t. Old women in plaid shawls gathered in groups near the piper's avenue, and talked a continuous stream of Gaelic.

The hall, containing the product of the women's deft fingers, stood near the gates. At one side was a long shed devoted to the display of farm produce, and the homely place was beautiful with scarlet apples, golden pumpkins, cabbages opening like great, pale-green roses, and heaps of purple grapes and plums. Opposite this, in a corner, the cattle and sheep, and other farm stock, were herded, each living creature lifting up its voice in protest against the sudden disturbance of its. .h.i.therto even and well-ordered life. At the end of the field, opposite the gate, a rocky and uneven road, in the shape of an ellipse, served as the race track. A grand-stand, formed by nature from a gra.s.sy knoll, covered with sweet-smelling pines, rose at one side, and made a convenient and delightful resting place.

Having handed Hannah and Joey over to Jake, who arrived in a neighbor's buggy, just behind them, Gilbert tied his horse and wandered about, shaking hands and looking at the prizes. He was captured by Tim and Davy, the former in a state of wild excitement, because his pumpkins had taken first prize, and Davy's only second. On the other hand, Keturah, his cow, had taken only third; but old Sandy McKitterick had said that Spectacle John was judge, and that he didn't know a cow from a giraffe. And Isaac and Rebekah had taken first, anyhow, and the doctor must come and see the red tickets on them. Gilbert started off through the crowd, but fell a captive by the way. As he pa.s.sed a Gaelic-speaking group of checked shawls he was grasped violently by the sleeve and forced into the circle.

”There she will be now. Jist be takin' a look at her, whatefer. Och, hoch! this is what you would be doing!” And the young doctor smiled radiantly and blushed like a schoolboy, for there was Mrs. McKitterick herself, surrounded by an admiring crowd, and enjoying her first show in ten years! The hero was petted and praised in two languages, and clapped on the back and admired, until he was overwhelmed with confusion. He was rescued from his embarra.s.sment by the impatient orphan and dragged off to witness the triumph of Isaac and Rebekah.

When the geese had been sufficiently admired, and even poor Keturah's small achievement duly noted, the doctor escaped, and making a wide detour of the tartan shawls, found his way to the grand-stand. Here, seated on the dry pine-needles, under a spreading tree, was a group of three: Malcolm Cameron, with his sister and the minister's daughter.

”h.e.l.lo, doctor!” cried the boy joyfully. ”I've been looking all over for you. Come along. We're going to the hall.”

”What's to be seen there?” asked Gilbert, helping the ladies to rise.

”Well, for one thing, there's your new mitts.”

”Hush, Malcolm!” cried his sister. ”Mrs. McKitterick wanted it kept a secret.”

”Great Caesar! Would you let a pair of shackles like that be sprung on an innocent man without a moment's warning?”

”What's this?” asked Gilbert, in the alarm that the name of old Mrs.

McKitterick always raised in his breast. ”What's going to happen now?”

”It's only a pair of mittens, Dr. Allen,” said Miss Marjorie. ”Mrs.

McKitterick knit them, and if they take first prize they are to be given to you.”

”It was too bad to tell,” said Elsie.

”No, it wasn't!” cried her brother. ”They're to be presented to him at Christmas, and he'll need three months to get resigned. Come along and see them.”

As they threaded their way toward the hall Malcolm glanced at the other young man significantly. Gilbert understood.

”Miss Cameron,” he said, ”I am all alone in my buggy. Won't you drive home with me?”